Professor Loki
by FanfictionShadow
Summary: Loki had it with Odin's neglect. With Thor's bullying. There was nothing left for him. So he let go. And fell through the Void, to Thanos's grasp. And was dumped, tortured and almost dead, in the Forbidden Forest, right into Severus Snape's life. Loki is taken in by Hogwarts but is that enough to protect him from the demons of his past and the problems of now? Probably SnapexLoki
1. From the Stars

**This is one of my favorite ideas since I've read Harry Potter, and I decided that it was time to type it out and post it. I hope that you enjoy!**

 **And as a side note, this will be mostly Loki-based and Severus Snape-based, but it will follow the books and it will focus on a few others.**

 **Also, I have a very biased view not only at Odin and Thor's treatment of Loki when they were kids but also at the Marauders and Dumbledore's treatment of Snape when he was a kid at Hogwarts. So excuse all of the slights that I make at all of the above mentioned people.**

 **This will (probably) eventually become SnapexLoki, at least as best friends if not more.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, though I would love to meet J.K. Rowling, and I do not own Norse mythology or Marvel's rights to it, though I would love to meet Loki.  
**

While Dumbledore knows many things, he doesn't know everything. Some things that he doesn't know are how much Severus Snape suffered at the hands of his father and, later, the Marauders; how to be completely fair concerning his beloved house, Gryffindor, versus its longtime rival, Slytherin; most of the secret passageways around Hogwarts; and almost all of Muggle ways, to name a few. The existence of Yggdrasil and the other Nine Realms are just a part of that long list.

So when Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore watched a man from the sky, he, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and only fear of the Dark Lord Voldemort, had to admit that he had no clue what the hell was going on.

Firenze met him and Hagrid in the crater made by the man's landing. All three expected unidentifiable remains, but at least some idea as to what had happened.

What they found was much worse.

They saw a living, breathing an, with injuries so grievous that Albus himself had to fight to not throw up. Both he and Hagrid had no inkling as to how a man could have survived such a fall, and the even bigger shock was that most of his injuries spoke of torture, not impact. The only sign that the man had fallen at all was the irregular, almost freaky, way that his neck hung.

Firenze noticed none of this. He kept muttering, "he's from the stars. They sent him here. He's from the stars."

Dumbledore hailed his four Heads of Houses and Madam Pomfrey. He only had to wait a few minutes for them to meet Hagrid, whom he'd sent to meet them at the edge of the forest, and only a few minutes more until they reached him. He heard their shocked gasps- and Pomona's retching- but didn't turn his head, instead staring down at the figure motionless except for his chest slowly signifying his heart, at least, was still alive.

Hagrid went off again to grab a stretcher for the man.

Firenze kept on muttering.

It was silent until Filius stepped up beside him, drawing his wand and muttering a charm to reveal all of the injuries. Everyone flinched as more and more wounds were exposed, floating above the body in a soft light as more and more showed up. Poppy stepped up and joined in on the charm, speeding it up until all the injuries were displayed.

It was Severus that broke the silence that had fallen.

"I can brew potions to cancel out the pain, as well as mend his broken ribs, leg, and hand. With some time I can create a few that will stop the bleeding internally and externally, but I can't fix his punctured lung, spleen, or most of the outer wounds- the potions that can do that don't mix well with the others."

Poppy looked at him with concern in her eyes. "We first need to stabilize him, stop the internal bleeding and fix the pierced areas. We also have to set his neck. There's nerve damage, we have to worry about that and the internal bleeding before anything else, even bones." Minerva was nodding beside her, and Filius was already casting the immobilization charm. Severus quickly started scribbling on a piece of parchment that he had pulled from his pocket.

"Here are the ingredients I'll need for the potions for neck damage and the internal bleeding. Normally I'd get these myself, but as we're on a tight schedule, Pomona, I trust that you can get me the correct amounts from your stores," he explained as he finished writing. Pomona took the parchment and ran off towards her greenhouses, glad to be away from the terrible scene in that clearing. As she left, Hagrid reappeared.

"'Ere yeh are, Madam Pomfrey," he mumbled as he handed her the stretcher he'd grabbed. Filius flicked his wand and the stretcher floated upwards a few feet, then guided it to next to the figure on the ground as Poppy gently lifted the man up with a whispered spell of _Wingardium Leviosa_ and eased him into place on the floating stretcher. Behind them, Severus had whipped up another list of the materials needed for the healing potions and handed it to Minerva, who immediately headed back to the castle to gather them. After taking one last glance around to make sure he didn't miss anything, Severus headed back as well to set up an area in the hospital wing for him to work and another, closed off area for the patient.

Together, Poppy and Filius started slowly guiding the stretcher back, leaving Albus, Hagrid, and Firenze standing there. Albus turned to Hagrid.

"You can go now, Rubeus," he told him, "we'll give you an update later. And Firenze," he added, turning to the centaur, "I would like you to follow me."

Albus lead the way to Hagrid's hut, then brought Firenze up to Hogwarts, listening to him mutter, "he's from the stars."

 **Hope you liked it! Please review if you want more! As always, I invite constructive criticism, but please don't flame me. If you don't like it, don't read it. Thank you.**


	2. Firenze's Tale

**Here's the second chapter. I would have attached it to the first, but it got to be too long. So here. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Norse mythology or Marvel in any universe whatsoever. Why else would I write fanfiction?**

When they reached the hospital wing, they immediately headed to the back of the room, where a space big enough for two and a half beds was blocked off by the curtains. As Albus parted them for him and Firenze, an unusual scene met their eyes.

Severus was standing over a cauldron, flames beneath, brewing the potions needed that only the young Potions Master could create quickly enough. Next to him, Pomona was handing off the ingredients when he called for them, and Minerva handed him materials the same way. Filius and Poppy were muttering over the man on the stretcher, which was still floating, as he was in no condition to be moved off of it. Their fired off spells and charms were keeping him stable, but Albus knew that until they got the potions into him, he wouldn't remain so for long. Speaking of which…

"Severus, you are aware that you'll have to use that spell you made to get the potions in him, right?" Albus questioned. "The nerve damage does mean that he can't swallow, after all."

Severus grunted an affirmative but otherwise remained focused on his task- one of the biggest reasons why he was a Potions Master so young. It would be a strain to have to add on giving this strange man his potions as well as brewing others and keeping up with his duties at Hogwarts, but as the only one there who knew, and could perform, the complicated nonverbal spell, he knew it was his job to.

Albus then turned to Minerva. "You are in charge of keeping the news of this man from the students, and dispel any rumors. Keep an eye on Mister Potter as well, he's a very curious boy, and we do not need any attention right now." Minerva nodded, not stopping handing Severus the materials.

Albus then turned to Filius and Poppy. Poppy already knew what she had to do, Albus reasoned, and so he only addressed Filius, "Keep charms around his bed, put up wards and make sure that there are spells to alert us if anything changes while Poppy is busy with others."

Poppy narrowed her eyes at him. "And I suppose, Albus, that you expect me to have this man ready to answer questions in less than a week?" She didn't even give him the time to respond before continuing. "Even if we manage to heal his internal injuries, his cracked and broken ribs, his broken leg and shattered hand, as well as all of the superficial wounds all over his body, he will not be able to even swallow, much less talk, until the summer holidays at least." She stopped lecturing for a second to bark to Severus "sleeping potion" before going back to her healing spells. Albus frowned at this, but he expected it from Poppy. She was extremely protective with her patients.

Severus left the cauldron simmering and swept past Albus, pulled a vial from his robes and flicked his wand. The liquid in it disappeared, and from the slight jerk of the unconscious man's chest, he knew that Severus had just spelled the potion down the other man's throat. He was surprised, however, when Severus repeated the process twice more.

"Nutrition and numbing potions," he said when Albus sent him a glance.

Poppy nodded. "You'll need to administer those as well as the healing potions every morning and night, and at noon until he's stable."

Filius stepped up behind her as Severus went back to his work area, ladling the finished potion into bottles that Minerva conjured as needed, then taking one of the many and heading back over to the man. He wordlessly waved his wand and transferred the potion from the bottle to the man again, then started brewing the next one. The charm put on the man by Filius, displaying his injuries, now showed the wounds allowing the internal bleeding slowly closing. Poppy murmured a spell and the broken ribs pushing against the healing organs moved back to the usual places and encased them with immobilization spells, as well as renewing the one on the neck with Filius's help.

As the routine started again, Albus turned to Firenze, whom everyone had forgotten was there.

"And now, Firenze, you can explain to us what you have been murmuring."

The centaur sighed and turned towards the professors, his tail swishing, showing that he was not happy with this order. He let his tense posture drop, though, as he began talking.

"A long time ago before you were a student, Albus, we centaurs had a visitor from another realm."

"Realm?" Minerva questioned.

"Yes," Firenze went on. "The Nine Realms orbit around Yggdrasil, the World Tree, and Midgard- Earth- is one of them. The centaurs were told this by our visitor. She was from the most powerful realm, the Realm Eternal- Asgard."

"Asgard?" Minerva broke in again. "Isn't that place from Norse mythology?"

Firenze sighed at the interruption again, but continued. "Exactly, for that is what this is. The visitor however, unlike this one, arrived by the Bifrost, or-"

"The Rainbow Bridge," Minerva finished. Albus shot her a look and she shut her mouth and turned her attention back to handing Severus his materials, but kept her ears open. Albus nodded to Firenze to go on.

"Our visitor was Queen Frigga, the Queen of Asgard herself. She gathered us centaurs in the forest and taught us how to see Yggdrasil and read its stars to see the future, for that is her ability- to see what will happen. She gave us the secret on how those who are mortal can do so as well. As she left after teaching us all she was able to, our leader asked her why she was spending valuable time teaching her secrets to creatures on a realm she never visits herself. She told us…"

Firenze looked straight into Albus's eyes.

"…She said that she was ensuring the survival of her son."

There was silence throughout the hospital wing as everyone let that sink in. Poppy was the one who broke the silence this time.

"Did she mention anything about how her son would be injured? If we knew, we could heal him much more efficiently-"

"She did not mention anything else," Firenze said. "I believe that she did not know much herself. All she did know was that one of her sons would end up on Midgard, and she gave us centaurs the ability to read the stars to try and prevent the danger." He lowered his eyes. "I did not see this…"

Minerva, meanwhile, was staring hard at the unconscious man- er- Asgardian, even as she continued to help Severus, who was at the most important part of the brewing stage. She knew her mythology, even Norse, which was one of the most confusing mythologies out there. But in the most well-known myths, the Queen of Asgard had three children- and only one of them had black hair.

"Loki."

Albus turned to face her. "What was that, Minerva?"

Minerva didn't answer immediately, instead helping Severus bottle up the potion for the neck's nerves and watching as he used his nonverbal spell to transfer it to the patient. Only then did she reply to Albus as Severus started up the next batches of potion to mend the different bones.

"His name is Loki." At Albus's questioning gaze, she explained. "In the most common Norse myths, Frigga has three sons, and only one fits this man's description. The youngest prince of Asgard, Norse God of Mischief, Lies, Fire, and Magic, making him the only male magic user of Asgard besides his father, Odin, who rarely- if at all- uses his own magic. Asgard was based on warriors and strength, so Loki was looked down upon for learning 'a woman's art'." Firenze seemed impressed with her knowledge; Filius, Pomona and Poppy looked interested at the idea of Loki and slightly upset at the description of Asgard and their negative views about magic; Severus kept a straight face as he Occluded his thoughts about the matter, but the slight tightening of his hand around his wand showed that he was upset; and Albus…

Albus Dumbledore had that well-known glint in his eyes as he gazed upon their patient.

"Well," he said with a slight chuckle, "I think we'll have to talk with our newest professor as soon as he's able to, hm?"

 **As usual, please review, yes constructive criticism, no flames. Since I haven't written the next chapter yet, I ask that I can have at least 5 reviews before I post again, please. It will tell me that you are actually interested in my story, and that will give me the inspiration needed to continue. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Frigga's View

**Author's Note: This is just a quick little drabble, but I was rereading the chapter and had this plot bunny, so I quickly typed it up.**

 **Enjoy and review!**

It has been almost a year since Loki fell in the Void.

Frigga stared out her bedroom window, her heart still aching for the loss of her son even as she stood tall and regal, a figure of perfect calm and of strength for her realm.

Thor's lessons on being a king were coming to an end, Frigga knew, and soon he would be ready to take the throne. Ever since Thor was banished to Midgard to learn humility, though, he had refused to take the throne, first using grief and later lessons as excuses to postpone it.

At first, Frigga had been enraged that her son used Loki's death as an excuse to not do work. She had thought that Thor cared more for his brother than that, even if Loki told him that he was a Jotun. While Loki had truly believed that being Jotun by birth meant he was a monster (and Frigga still cursed Odin for bringing her son up to hate his own species) she had been sure that Thor could see past the prejudice to his brother inside the blue shell. Her heart had been ripped even more when it seemed she had raised her other son to bow to stereotypes as well.

Thor coming to her later and explaining had cooled her fury a bit, but it still didn't fully abate.

No, her anger still burned strong, at Thor, at Odin, even at herself, for failing Loki so badly. She hadn't even seen the problems, the self-loathing, the fear that Loki had held through the entire ordeal and up to the point where he took his own life.

Frigga was his mother. She should have seen the signs that her own son was suffering.

And now her one remaining son was suffering the approaching burden that he had realized he didn't want far too late. If Loki was alive, they would have shouldered the throne together - Thor commanding the people, with Loki planning strategy beside him - but Loki was dead, killed by his parents' neglect and his brother's shadow.

Frigga almost burst into tears at the thought. She took a ragged breath, then another, trying to keep the pressure behind her eyes at bay.

Suddenly too tired to watch over her realm, Frigga turned away from the sun, heading to her bed and drawing the curtains around her. It had been a year, but the pain of losing her youngest son - the son that she taught all of her tricks to, to try and give him something of his own to be proud of - was still stabbing. Some days it was all she could do to get out of bed, to smile at Thor, to say good morning to Odin. Some days all she wanted was to stay in bed, curl up, and cry.

Suddenly, a blinding headache ripped through her skull. She grabbed her head and collapsed, the pain too much to even breathe, let alone scream, but she forced her lungs to drag in a breath, and then another. Frigga dragged herself to the end of the bed, gripping the post, waiting for the blinding light behind her eyelids to solidify into shapes.

The glimpse of the future was brief - a flash of black hair, old-fashioned robes of black and emerald green, silver and white potions, a stick waving in the air...

As soon as it came, the vision faded and the pain with it, leaving Frigga panting and collapsing onto her back. Even though all her energy had been used up, she smiled, a true smile for the first time since Loki fell.

When Frigga first got the vision of magic on Midgard, and magic saving her son, she had naturally assumed it would be Thor. After all, her older son was the adventurer, the one who ran headfirst into danger, and she believed that of the two of them, he was most likely to find true danger on Midgard. When Odin had banished Thor, Frigga assumed that the vision had been true, and her visit to Midgard years earlier had been to help Thor through his banishment.

She never expected that her vision would be for Loki.

 _He's alive,_ she thought gleefully. _My son's alive._

Frigga knew that she couldn't tell anyone what she had seen. Her visions were immensely private, never to be shared with another soul. The rest of Asgard would learn of their prince's miraculous survival in time.

Until then, Loki would have time to recuperate and heal from what had happened to him, both on Asgard and in the Void.

Until then, Frigga had to keep Loki's survival to herself, the mantra repeating in her head. _Loki's alive. My son is alive._

Beaming, Frigga drifted off to sleep, knowing that it would be hard to wait to see her son again, but that not all hope was lost.

Loki was alive. Thank the Norns, Loki was alive.


End file.
